Can I Get There By Candlelight?
by Baroness Kika
Summary: AU: To appease his childhood sweetheart, young Peeta Mellark ventures into the magical forest just outside the protective walls of his city to fetch a fallen star—certainly no easy task when the star turns out to be a girl on fire. Inspired by Neil Gaiman's 'Stardust'. Banner by Ro Nordmann.


On a warm summer evening, in the walled city of Twelve, near a large, regal house that sits high upon a hill dotted with primrose bushes and dandelion patches, there sits a boy and a girl, watching the stars dotting the sky as they twinkle and glow. From afar, the boy and girl look as though they might be related, what with their pale skin and honey-wheat blonde hair. But there is something different about the boy—specifically, in the deep crystalline pools of azure that are his eyes—that makes him look markedly different from the other people in town, all of whom seem continually blessed with eyes the color of storm clouds.

The boy's name is Peeta Mellark, and he believes he loves the girl, Madge Undersee, with all his heart.

"Madge," he says wistfully after she points out the constellation of Sagittarius, "would you… Let me kiss you?"

The girl sighs and shakes her blonde curls. "No."

"You've let me before," he reminds her.

"That was when were children, when we'd play games," she replies.

"But I'm… I'm in love with you," he says.

Madge shakes her head again, more ardently this time. "I don't think that's true at all."

"It is. And I'll prove it to you, if you want me to. I'd do anything for you, Madge."

As he says the words, a star within the Sagittarius constellation appears to grow brighter, more lustrous, and then, as though pulled back in the string of a bow, shoots across the sky. The pair gape at the falling star in wonderment, and a coy smile passes Madge's pink, cupid's-bow lips.

"Would you fetch me that star?" Madge says.

"A star?"

"Yes, a star. I like stars. And maybe, if you fetched me that star, I'd believe that you really do love me."

"You wouldn't rather a string of pearls, or rubies, or diamonds?"

"Fetch me _that star_, Baker Boy," she says, getting to her feet and smoothing the skirt of her dress behind her, "and I shall give you whatever you desire of me."

He watches her go, then looks off into the middle distance, straining his eyes towards where he believes he saw the star land. For all he knows, it could be across oceans, lakes, rivers, mountains, prairies—after all, those who live in Twelve know little about what is beyond the walls of their city, except that the magical land known as Panem is an incredibly dangerous and wonderful place. But as he gets to his own feet and begins the slow walk back to the bakery he calls his home, he mulls things over in his head and decides that not only would it be possible to fetch Madge Undersee her star…

…He, Peeta Mellark, shall be the one to do it.

* * *

He does not dare tell his ill-tempered mother or swarthy, imposing brothers of his plan. Instead, Peeta goes straight to his father, with whom he's always felt more kinship than any other member of his family, and tells the man of his intentions.

"Father—I want to go into Panem. Madge and I saw a star from Sagittarius fall down somewhere out there, and she said if I fetch it for her, that she'll give me whatever I want. And what I want more than anything else is _her_."

Ezekiel Mellark, the baker of Twelve, pauses mid-roll of his heavy rolling pin and looks curiously at his blue-eyed son. Peeta expects his father to shake his head tersely and say he's far too young for an adventure such as that, and then tell him to fetch the rolls off the back counter so they don't over-proof, but Ezekiel simply sighs. To Peeta's endless amazement, his father bobs his head up and down, as though he's actually agreeing with him.

"You don't know this, son…but that's your right to do so."

Ezekiel's words are cryptic, and Peeta ought to ask for more to understand, but he is distracted when his father puts his arm around his shoulder and leads him up the stairs. "When would you like to go?" Ezekiel asks.

"Erm… As soon as possible, I suspect."

"Very well—let's get you ready."

* * *

When Ezekiel loads him down with a heavy, long, leather jacket, and a rucksack full of edibles like dried meat, pears, preserved goat cheese, and bread loaves laden with nuts and fruit, and necessities like a small knife, a water skin, matches, and the like, he and Peeta leave the bakery and head towards the great wall that surrounds their city.

There is but one gap in the great wall, one that leads directly into the enchanted forest of Panem, and it is guarded at all times. Once every nine years, the guards surrender their duty so that the populace can cross through the wall, and attend the great Panem festival. Peeta was not permitted to go the one time the festival occurred during his remembered-lifetime, though he'd not received a reasonable explanation from his mother as to why. With the festival coming about again soon, he supposes he could wait, and pass through the wall then—but he cannot afford to wait for Madge Undersee for that long. They might be young, but Madge is the prettiest girl in town, and Peeta would be devastated if he could not make her his own.

"How will I pass through with the guards on duty?" Peeta asks his father, finally feeling some sort of apprehension over his impending, self-imposed task.

"Allow me to talk with them," Ezekiel says placidly.

Guarding the opening are Haymitch Abernathy and Beetee Latier. They greet Ezekiel with curt nods of their heads, but say nothing to Peeta.

"'Evenin' gents," Ezekiel says. "The time has come for Peeta to go through the wall. I'm sure you understand why."

Mr. Abernathy and Mr. Latier both nod that they do, which only confuses Peeta more since he hasn't the foggiest idea himself.

"Boy got anything to drink?" Mr. Abernathy asks Peeta by way of Ezekiel.

"He has a water skin and iodine for fresh water; I imagine he'll survive," Ezekiel shrugs.

Mr. Abernathy reaches within his jacket and pulls out a clinky, metal flask. "Here, boy. For nights when it gets chilly and you need a hint of liquid courage."

Peeta looks at his father curiously, unsure if he should take the liquor or not. Ezekiel nods that he should, so he does. "Er, thank you, Mr. Abernathy," Peeta says warily, and pockets the flask. He's never had a sip of liquor before, though he knows that is all Mr. Abernathy ever seems to imbibe.

Mr. Latier stoops low and searches for something within the large satchel at his feet. He pulls out a spool of copper wire, the sheer yardage Peeta cannot even begin to guess due to how tightly wrapped the coil is. "Take this, son," Mr. Latier says.

"Gladly, sir, but, erm…what for?" Peeta stammers.

"You never know when you'll need a bit of wire," Mr. Latier says.

Ezekiel pulls Peeta aside after he tucks the wire into his pack, and brandishes one final item—the stump of a candle that Peeta's sure he's never seen burnt in the house before.

"Once you go through the wall, son, light this. You'll need to think about where you're going, picture it in your mind's eye very, very clearly, and it will lead you on your way. You'll need to be quick about it. That much is important, Peeta. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father. But how will the candle not—"

"Strange things can happen in Panem, my boy. You'll see soon enough. Come back to us safely?"

"Of course, Father."

Ezekiel places a gentle kiss on his youngest child's head, and moves aside so that Peeta can get down on his knees and squeeze through the gap in the wall. Before he slides through the other side, he hears the gruff voice of Haymitch Abernathy grunt, "Yeah, kid. Stay alive."

He moves his legs and arms in tandem, and crawls through the gap. He gets back on his feet and looks about. _This place doesn't seem so frightening_, he thinks to himself.

He strikes a match from his pack and lights the candle. He pictures himself retrieving the fallen star, burying it safely in his pack, and then showing it to an exuberant Madge before he falls to his knees in front of her and asks for her hand as soon as they come of age, which she readily agrees to. With the picture clear in his head, he steps forward, the candle clutched firmly between his fingers.

At first, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Then Peeta realizes that the trees seem to whiz past his face at top speed. Wide rivers seem like tiny trickles of water sluicing down the side of a goblet. He passes by caves, castles, lakes, tiny towns and expansive cities—all seemingly at once, and all while he's simply putting one foot in front of the other. It's as though his normal stride has multiplied hundreds and hundreds of times over, so that with each step, he's actually walking miles and miles.

_Strange things can happen in Panem_, my boy, he recalls his father saying. And Peeta firmly believes it now that he's experienced it.

The flame flickers low on the enchanted candle, and Peeta stops in place. The night is dark and cool enough for him to see his breath coming in puffs from his nose and mouth. All about him is a wide clearing, flanked on all sides with dark, lush trees and mysterious paths carved through them. Peeta sees these things without truly seeing them, because in the middle of the clearing, cloaked in a long dress in shades of crimson, and yellow, and orange (his favorite color) is a girl. Her bare arms are sinewy and a shade of olive, her hair dark as the night sky above them, and her eyes two cool pools of silver the color of his mother's mercury filled thermometer. She's crouching in on herself, her shoulders shaking and her head tilting back and forth, back and forth, as though she's arguing with herself.

"Hello?" Peeta calls out to her, and the candle extinguishes itself in his hand. "Are you alright there?"

The girl looks up at him, and scowls. "I broke my heel when I fell. And my tailbone isn't having a good day, either. Go away."

"If you're hurt, I can help—I'm on an adventure, you see, and my father gave me supplies in case I injured myself," he says, striding forward. He curses the bad luck of his candle going out, because he ought to have more light to see with if he's going to help mend her.

"I don't need your help, peasant boy. I don't want to owe you a thing," the girl says bitterly.

"From where did you take this fall?" Peeta says, looking about and seeing nothing other than the sky near enough that she could have fallen from.

The girl purses her lips and refuses to say anything, but her eyes flit upwards ever briefly before they return to her bruised, bare foot stretched out in front of her.

Peeta looks up at the sky. His eyes find the constellation Sagittarius and suddenly it is as though his thoughts are pieces of a puzzle fitting together entirely of their own volition. He smiles, although he imagines that is very rude to do so when someone—not some_one_, he realizes, some_thing_—is in a great deal of pain. Never in a million years did he suppose that the prize he sought would be a girl, capable of feeling pain and delivering biting, haughty remarks, dressed head to toe in the colors of a flickering candle flame.

_But then again_, he thinks to himself, _what else might a star be than a girl who looks to be on fire?_

* * *

**A/N: The fortuitous timing of PiP let me reveal this prologue to a new WiP a bit before it's really ready to go—but after at least one of my other current WiPs wraps, this one is on tap. This prologue was clearly very T, but we'll get to the M stuff soon enough. ;) **

**Love and thanks to _sohypothetically, sponsormusings, mig14_, and _maddmaddworld_ for their fairy dust and love, and always mad love to _misshoneywell_ for the wonder that is PiP Week!**


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